


It All Starts Somewhere

by Roadgoeseveronandon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23288086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadgoeseveronandon/pseuds/Roadgoeseveronandon
Summary: There were multiple factories on the map. Steve forms the Howling Commandos to help take out the HYDRA factories. The strangers become a family through the fires of hell and back
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written several years ago, but I decided to edit it and repost to here.

How much changes in a little bit of time, 2nd Lieutenant James Montgomery Falsworth mused as he walked alongside his new teammates, assault rifle tucked into his hip. A week ago, he and almost 500 men had been enslaved by Nazi scientists, Hydra. The endless days of hunger and working the fingers to the bone were over. Falsworth never thought army rations could taste so good and the watered down tea he had gotten was heavenly.

  
The six men rescued from the facility now became the SSR Assault team. Charged with the physical destruction of Hydra facilities and capture of its leader, Johann Schmitt. The Brit didn’t know where it had originated from, but the team was quickly being referred to as the Howling Commandos. Dugan probably had a hand in that. Him and his big mouth.

  
Timothy “Dum Dum” Dugan was to Falsworth’s right and next to him walked Cpl. Gabe Jones, and Specialist Jacques Dernier. They and Falsworth were caged together in the prison. Over those hellish weeks, any differences between race, rank, and nationality faded swiftly. The Allied soldiers needed to work together to survive and that familiarity helped them when it came to escaping.

Cooperation did not come easily though. There was a lot of hardship and hunger, but even working together seemed better than death.

  
Slightly.

  
There was a soft cough to the lieutenant’s left, drawing his attention to Private First Class James “Jim” Morita. The Japanese-American from some place called Fresno (The Englishman did not know American cities too well) had been held in a separate cage from the four, but still folded in easily with the group so far, not much seemed to faze the short man. Even after clashing with the thick-skulled Dugan within 10 seconds of being freed, Morita did not dwell on it. He and Dernier worked well together during the escape, covering each other’s back according to the excitable French man.

  
The last member of their merry band of misfits strode in front of the rest, whispering softly to the Captain. Sgt. James Buchannan Barnes. He was also housed in a separate cage for their imprisonment and the others did not officially meet until after their escape. Though Falsworth had not recognized the younger man’s name, he remembered his face when the Captain had met up with them in the forest. The rest of the Commandos learned on the march back to the American camp, that the two were old friends separated by the war. Falsworth could only guess how deep that friendship went if one dived into the enemies’ hornet’s nest for the other.

  
Barnes had been one of the prisoners chosen by the Hydra doctor. The soldier had not made it easy for the guards when it came to escorting him away. He was also the only one to come back from the doctor’s office. Neither he nor the Captain knew what had happened to the others that had been taken. Falsworth could only pray for their souls.

  
The Commandos were recruited and led by Captain America in taking down Hydra. Falsworth couldn’t help but smirk as he though their leader’s nickname. It was a tad misleading as two of the men were not even American, including himself. Despite the somewhat obnoxious moniker, Captain Steve Rogers seemed to genuinely care for everyone around him.

  
Steve Rogers was a young man and it was fairly obvious to Falsworth that the man was new to being a soldier and new to war. He was green to command. At first it made him wary as Rogers had been promoted from private to Captain in one step. The boy just seemed so innocent of the world. Outside the battlefield, Steve was awkward, kind, and open hearted. Shyness was evident when many sung his praises. Steve would choose to sit in a war meeting than be awarded for his valor, saying a piece of medal on his chest doesn’t mean much to those that have one resting in theirs. Falsworth had known others with similar personalities in the beginning of the fighting, but last saw them hard and bitter to the world. Already Falsworth had begun to see the young Captain harden under the strain of command. But Steve’s faith in people and ideals made Falsworth want to follow him, but he feared that breaking as well.

  
Suddenly Barnes trotted off ahead and Captain Rogers turned to the rest of them. The broad man was surprisingly soft spoken when addressing them, “Alright men, we are coming up close to the outer guard of the Hydra base. Bucky is going to scope it out. In the meantime, what we know is this is the smallest facility. It is not more than a couple of buildings and not more than a platoon defending it.”  
“Doesn’t seem worth it,” Dugan muttered. “Why not just beat up the place?” An airstrike would be fairly effective in a localized area and not overly difficult to achieve for once.

  
“Every base is important if we can get knowledge of Hydra’s workings and infrastructure,” Rogers answered.

“What are we looking for?” Gabe asked.

  
“The scientists, the commanders, anyone who can tell us what their next move will be.”

  
A sharp whistle sounded in the air, the Commandos all put their hands to their weapons. Bucky appeared a few seconds later.

  
“It’s less than what we thought,” He began, slightly out of breath. “There is just an old barn and not much more than a platoon. Smoke is everywhere.”

  
Falsworth spoke for the first time, “They are leaving.”

  
“And destroying what they can’t take,” Morita grunted

  
Captain Rogers nodded in response. To Falsworth, he ordered, “send two-thirds of the men from our company out wide, and try to cut off those that have already left. We will take the rest into the camp. Head on assault.”

  
Dugan, always ready for a fight, was grinning under his bushy moustache. Final orders were given and weapons checked.

  
The attack itself was quick, the infantry men were split into groups. Two parties went to cut off the retreating soldiers circling the buildings. The last joined the Assault team in raiding the factory. The wire gates were wide open in letting vehicles out so the Allies had no hindrance for the charge. The soldiers rolled in like a wave, easily gaining ground. The courtyard was empty and muddy any resistance protecting the doorway either fled or died. The barn was a stone base with old, entrance way. In the lead, Captain America and Commandos broke down the front door, gunning blazing.  
Rogers was on point, shooting his pistol and the Commandos flanked him on either side in a pyramid formation. The building was old, but spacious and more occupied that outside. Hydra guards rounded on the opening and unprotected to the attack. The guards fell like ragdolls and blood splattered on the gargantuan machines that rose to the ceiling.

  
The last man collapsed and there was a moment reprieve. Falsworth held up and reloaded his magazine. He watched as Rogers wordlessly scanned each of his men, checking their wellbeing. Gabe had a couple scratches to his face, probably from debris chalked up by bullets and Dugan was coated with dust. But everyone was otherwise unharmed. Falsworth noticed Bucky walk up to the Captain, but stopped shouting, “Steve, look out!” as two more guards came around the corner. One guard had his weapon charged, firing at the brightly colored captain. Falsworth grunted as Bucky collided with him, having been thrown by Rogers out of the way, pushing him into the machine behind him. The Brit thought this was the end at the beginning. Nothing has stopped a Hydra blast before, vaporizing anything in its path and Steve had sacrificed his chance to move to save his friend. The Captain could do nothing, but raise his large, round shield that was as decorative as he was.

  
There was a flash, then nothing. Nothing happened, Steve still stood, protecting himself from the blast, surprised at his lack of death. The Hydra guards were dumbfounded as well and the hesitation caused them. Steve whipped around swinging, bouncing Hydra soldiers off his shield like they were toys. Both hit the ground and lay motionless and no more guards appear.

  
It was the Commandos to look over their Captain. He was unharmed, and tapped his shield in appreciation. “Well, that’s a nifty thing to have,” Dugan said. Falsworth agreed, the shield’s ability to stop Hydra blasts gave them an edge.

  
The men spread out, looking for information. Bucky was glued to Steve’s side, Falsworth tried to ignore the heated whisper between the two. Barnes was completely overstepping as a sergeant to a captain, but their personal relationship and the uniqueness of the team made allowed for leniency in formality. Dugan and Morita were both ones to take advantage once they realized the slackness. Acting extremely casual between ranks, though they would fall in if orders came.

  
“Much like Azzano, lads.” Falsworth said, eyeing the machines. The mechanics were similar to the ones in Italy, though the production size was much smaller. Hydra would not need as much manpower to run this facility, but it would still need workers. “Prisoners?” he said, just as Morita called out.

  
Morita leaned over peering into a lower level, but the grimace on his face was an unpleasant foreshadowing to the contents. In a single row of cells were piles of bodies, prisoners that worked the factory shot in their cages. From the clothes it is easy to see the corpses were soldiers. POWs captured in battle and enslaved. When Hydra decided to cut their losses at this location, they couldn’t move quickly dealing with prisoners and were not able to let their captives go free or be freed.

  
Steve gazed at the bodies with an icy mask. He began to step forward, toward the cells say, “Search for survivors,” when Falsworth called him.

  
Flies had already begun to circle and the blood was congealed and sticky on the floor. The victims had been dead for hours, probably longer. “There aren’t going to be survivors, Captain.” He broke gently. Steve was stubborn beyond anything and his face darkened at the statement.

  
“We won’t know until we look!”

  
Bucky stepped in, “We can’t help them, Steve. We don’t have a lot of time and we still have to complete the mission.” That got through to Steve. The good soldier won out and he stalked away, shield grips clenched tightly in his hands. Falsworth knew Bucky had manipulated his friend. Steve probably knew it too, but it was for the best.

  
Falsworth swallowed the bile that burned the back of his throat as he stepped back. He could hear Gabe mutter a prayer and Dugan growl under his breath. This could easily had been the Howling Commandos had Colonel Phillips managed to build an attack in Italy. Hell, undoubtedly the only reason they were alive was because Steve had mounted a covert operation with the prisoners as his first priority. At the first whiff of compromise, Hydra had blown their own facility taking everything and everyone with it.

  
Falsworth paused, watching as Dugan uncovered an armored motorcycle. “Blas-“ he started as boots clanged above them, but the guards didn’t bother to shoot them. Instead headed to the door, more on the ground were not so inclined shooting as they appeared. Falsworth watch as Morita leaped over a support beam for cover, pulling the tarp that was draped over it. Reveling what Falsworth feared.  
Dernier’s French accent carried over the din of battle, shouting, “Bombe, Sa va exploser!” _Bomb, It’s going to explode_. The others did not need to speak French to know what that meant.

  
Their time was up, Steve had his shield up and pistol smoking, holding the guards back. At the Captain’s order, the Commandos retreated out the way they came. Falsworth gave covering fire as the others hoofed. Bucky was the last out.

  
The soldiers made about 50 yards, when the old barn blew. Morita was knocked to one knee, dragged to his feet by Jones as the other ran past.

  
“Le Capitaine!”

But they needn’t worry, as their new lead drove up next to them on hefty motorcycle. Glass littered his clothes and the bike. Steve had a couple scratches to his face, but was otherwise unharmed.

  
“Nice ride,” Barnes shouted, over the roar of the engine. Falsworth smiled as the Captain barely contained his grin. The rest joined in the relieved laughter. The barn was destroyed and in flames as was their evidence.

  
XX

  
In the end, the mission was not more fruitful than closing the factory. The infantrymen manage to capture a single scientist hiding in a small shelter. Held up between Dugan and Morita. The man was dressed in white coat and was of average build, his hair was askew and he had a bloody lip. The man attempted a brave front, but the constant worrying of his split lip proved that he was not as confident as he pretended.

  
Rogers was to the point questioning, but the scientist just sneered. Falsworth suppressed a shiver and glancing to his comrades he could see the others felt the same way. The man was captive, yet seemed to have no fear for himself. Dernier had a tight grasp on his pistol. Bucky stood off to the side, his arm crossed over his chest and jaw clenched. Gabe repeated the question in German, but the captive spat at the soldier.

  
Steve grabbed the man by his collar and hauled him into the air. “You’ve disrespected enough men. Him and your captives.” He growled.

  
The man gave an indignant smirk, speaking in an accented English, “No big loss. Inferior. Those that do not follow the Führer or Hydra are inferior.” Steve dropped the man in disgust. The scientist said nothing as he was hauled up again, trying to regain his breath. But still on his knees the man smile, “Hail Hydra,” he sneered. Before anyone could move the man crunched his teeth. Rogers warning came too late and the Hydra scientist was dead in seconds.

  
“Well, that could have gone better,” Dugan said nonchalantly, brushing the dust off his hat before replacing back on his head. Captain Rogers was silent as he stared at the fresh corpse, his lips pursed in a tight line. “A spy in New York committed suicide after he failed to kill me and escape.” If he noticed Bucky gazing at him intensely at those words, he didn’t show it.

  
“It appears that all involved with Hydra are faithful to the job,” Falsworth summarized.

  
“We need to keep an eye out for that next time,” Gabe added.

  
But this was only the beginning, Hydra had at least six factories that were known as just as many outstations. Captain America and the Howling Commandos had a long way to go in defeating Hydra and the Red Skull. They had a long way to go with each other as well.

  
But Falsworth just smiled, this was going to be fun


	2. Chapter 2

The covered Jeep bounced along the path that could barely be called a road. The way was hampered with rocks and roots. The vehicle forced tree limbs out of the way as it passed. Dugan behind the wheel did not make the ride any smoother.

There would be no rest for the Howling Commandos. Almost as soon as they had returned from their first mission, the next one had been assigned. And this one would not be nearly as simple. The wagon was silent as the commandos prepared themselves. The base was high in the mountains near the border France. Too deep into enemy territory for aerial scouts. The Captain was ordered to scope out the set up the next major Hydra factory and learn what would be needed to destroy it. A mission that required no small degree of stealth. They would only be able to go so far in the vehicle. Which also meant they were on their own, there would be no back up if things turned sour.

They had been driving for nearly two days now and were starting to get stir crazy. The covered jeep had two benches that lined the bed of the truck. Captain America and the Commandos sat in the back with supplies packed underneath their seats and at the front of the bed. Dugan sat in the cab by himself, typically smoking his small, dwindling supply of cigars. During the mission there would be a lights out order, where flashlights and smokes would have to be away as to not reveal their location. Dugan was smoking his difficult-to-acquire cigars while he had the chance. Just in case they would not be able to return to the jeep either.

The reverie was broken by a particularly massive lurch of the Jeep that sent the occupants flying out of their seats. Barnes was propelled into Gabe, who practically crushed Dernier beneath both of them.

“Keep good hold of your skirts, Ladies” Dugan shouted from the wheel.

“Are you even watching the road?” Morita shot back, having almost thrown the gun he was cleaning.

“What? Did you think I was driving on a rainbow bridge?”

“Or you’re just nuts!”

“Enough,” Falsworth interjected, rubbing his bruised shoulder. He had rammed into Steve which was almost the same as running into a brick wall. The Englishman brushed off the Captain’s apology, “We still have a ways to go and this is the only base we have.”

Rank did not mean much to the Commandos beyond the Captain’s order, but the Brit was appointed the second in command. Secretly, Falsworth had been surprised. He had assumed Bucky Barnes would be the Captain’s second as his oldest friend, even though Falsworth outranked him in a different army. But it was official, not that the Englishman could give an order without a smart remark that would have called for a reprimand in a normal troop. This bunch was far from normal and so was their mission.

“Dugan, pull off at the next clearing you find,” Steve ordered, it was only a couple of hours until sundown and they would not get close to Hydra until tomorrow.

In front of Colonel Phillips and the rest of the army, the broad, blond, icon was only known formally as Captain. Alone amongst his teammates and friends he could be Rogers or even just Steve.

Eventually, the truck pulled to the side of the road into a shallow clearing. The vehicle creaked and groaned as its forward motion halted.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Gabe said hesitantly.

“Nous aurons besoin de la pousser bientôt,” Dernier added. _We will need to push it soon._

“I’ll give it a look,” Barnes offered after Gabe had translated the concerns, crawling under the truck. The Commandos did not need to be stranded before the mission even started. Bucky worked a multitude of odd jobs before shipping out. Taking a job for whatever he could even if it was only for a day. He had worked at the docks, stacking boxes for a grocer, and assisting a mechanic.

The others dispersed into setting up camp. The climate was cool, but not impossible to sleep outside. European weather however was subject to change quickly.

“Hey, Jimmy. How’s she lookin?” Dugan asked. The big man had almost tripped over the other’s feet twice when unloading the truck. Bucky ignored him, continuing to tinker with the rear axle. Though Dugan wasn’t expecting an answer as he knew Bucky hated being referred to any derivative of James. Despite the cheekiness, Dugan had not seen the pothole and wanted to be stuck without a ride as much as everyone else.

“Do we have a wrench?” Bucky asked to no one in particular.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked as he passed the tool under.

“No much, just a couple loose bolts. It should be fine, even with Dum Dum driving.”

“We don’t have a jack with us,” Gabe noted from the fire he built up.

“I don’t think we will find one out here.” Falsworth added as he walked back into camp.

“Don’t need one,” said Steve. The Captain grabbed the edge of the truck and heaved, lifting it up enough to take the pressure off, allowing Bucky to quickly tighten the bolts and get out.

“Geez, nothing can stop you, Hercules” Dugan laughed.

“Yeah, I’m still getting used to it,” Bucky said, accepting a hand up from his childhood friend. His tone was light, but his smile was a halfhearted attempt. But so far, it was true. Steve Rogers could lift more, run faster, and learn quicker than anyone. The Commandos all learned how Steve had become Captain America, though none of them believe Bucky’s description of pre-serum Steve until they saw a photo.

The camp was set, blankets on the ground and packs for pillows would be their beds. The men would sleep out in the open air. Now Morita and Steve were going at it. Morita was on the offense, aiming blows at Steve’s stomach and head and attempting to kick out unbalance him. Steve was strictly on defense, his goal was to block. Despite the height difference, the Commando did manage nail Steve once in the chin. Fists were flying, kicks were thrown, but the sparring was steady until Morita started to tire. After a couple sloppy swings, Steve grabbed Morita’s wrist and flipped the man on to his back. “come on,” the man complained, brushing the dirt off his shoulder.

“It’s all good up close, but I don’t think Hydra is going walk up and let you punch them.”

The men gathered around the fire, sitting on logs, crates or in the dirt. Morita mixed a stew for dinner, it was light from the dried meat and water instead of a broth, but would be one of the last hot meals they were going to get for the foreseeable future. Gabe was telling an animated story of pretty girl back home that had sent him off to war with a number of kisses.

To the side, Dernier was speaking to Steve in a slow, exaggerated manner, “Le feu est chaud.” _The fire is hot._

“Le feu est chaud.” Was the deliberate response

“Le feu va brûler si vous la touchez.” _The fire will burn if you touch it._

“Le feu va brealer si vous la touchez.”

“Brûler,” Dernier correct.

“Brûler. Le feu va brûler si vous la touchez,” Steve dutifully repeated. Every chance there was the Captain had been picking up French from the explosive expert and German from Gabe. Dernier was more than happy to teach his language and his student was learning rapidly.

Dernier could in fact speak some conversational English. He tripped over the grammar and his accent was thick, but was able to be understood. The short man just preferred to speak in his native tongue, he was able to express himself easier and no one minded. During the war, it was important to hold on to every reminder of home.

The men were turning in when the night sky lit up and booming round of thunder followed shortly after.

The Howling Commandos and Captain America scrabbled to their feet, gathering their supplies as it began to rain. The rain poured heavily as the last couple packs were loaded into the truck and the men sat close together in the damp.

“Well, this is cozy,” Morita said dryly. The Nisei soldier wrung the water out of his skull cap in annoyance.

“It’ll be like when we were kids. Sleeping on the couch cushions,” Bucky remarked to his best friend.

“Except we weren’t wet,” Steve pointed out, laughing as Bucky waved away the details.

“We still have a job to do tomorrow, lads. Get some sleep.” Falsworth ordered. The soldiers settled in the crowded back of the truck, wiggling into a comfortable space as rained poured on the tarp roof and the windshield.

Captain Rogers remained awake, keeping watch, looking out the back of the truck. He was thinking of what lay ahead tomorrow and of who was waiting behind.

**XX**

The morning was misty and cool from the night’s rain. After a few more hours driving, the band of soldiers pulled off the road. This time the supplies were distributed into packs and the truck was covered with branches and leaves.

Surveillance flights showed that they had stopped about two miles from where the first Hydra perimeter guard should be stationed. The team needed to establish the layout of the factory, find the weapons, prisoners, and any higher ups that could be useful.

Falsworth, Gabe, and Bucky would swing left, Dugan, Dernier, and Morita to the right establishing the needed information. Captain America would go up and over.

“Alright, meet back at the rendezvous point at 1700 hours,” Steve ordered. The meeting time would give each group two hours to search and return. “Maintain radio silence unless necessary.”

Each group had a handheld walkie-talkie between them. The radios were redesigned by Howard Stark to make them lighter and more versatile for stealth missions like this one. The channel was a distinct signal that no one would be able to listen to unless they had a machine that generated it. The privacy was due to a scrabbling signal that piggy backed on the channel, but Steve and the Commandos had all tuned out the inventor’s detailed explanation. Gabe Jones was the only one of them that had any sort of interest in the ingenuity. What they did note was the frequency range was shorten to two square miles because of the decreased size.

Steve easily hopped over the over the wire fencing and scrabbled up to the roof of the nearest building. There were multiple, older styled buildings in this facility. If it wasn’t for the pair of Hydra guards that passed below the silent observer, he would have assumed it was just another village in France. The town was fairly remote and the perfect place for secrecy in an abandoned area.

Vaulting from roof to roof, Steve was nothing more than a shadow. He silently slipped past guards on the roof as he scoped the layout, mentally mapping traffic and resources as he went. The super soldier took extra care of where he placed his feet. This was not the time to engage the enemy. He could easily overtake any that came at him, but the advantage of stealth would be lost and any evidence would be destroyed. The commandos would be taking in the outer buildings and noting any escape routes.

Steve stopped short, crouching behind some large crates. The next roof was over 20 yards away; an impossible leap for anyone but him. The soldier hesitated for a moment, waiting for a guard to his right to pass him. As soon as the guard did, Steve took off, covering the distance and landing in a roll to the opposite roof.

He was about to bounce back to his feet until he heard sounds on the floor below him. Steve lay flat on his stomach, ear pressed against the old wood. The voices that filtered up were rapid as if startled, but it was the pitch that caught the soldier’s attention. The cries were high and light and as the fears formed in his mind a baby’s wail carried above all the noise.

The Captain quickly swung over the side of the building. Clinging to the nearest windowsill, Steve peered in to the small living room. Inside there were at least 20 women and children crowded together, ages ranging from elderly to infancy.

The civilians were frantic, pointing to the roof and Steve could see a chuck of the ceiling lying on the floor in the middle of the room. His landing must have loosened it.

The door across the room banged open. Steve pulled back, hanging by his fingers outside he could hear the guard yelling in German for silence and there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The women quieted even though they were speaking French before, but the baby cried.

After the door closed again, Steve shimmed back to the roof. He kneeled by the edge, mind spinning like rides at an amusement park. This town was never abandoned, Hydra had taken it over and imprisoned its inhabitants. Steve guessed that the men were in the factory now, working hard to keep their wives and children safe.

He need to get a better view of the other buildings now, who knows how many other rooms like the one below him, was.

Sharp crackle of static sounded and Captain America’s heart leaped into his throat. He groped for the radio at his hip, trying to muffle the noise with his hands. The heart in his throat squeezed with the realization that his team was in trouble.

“Need back up,” Falsworth’s British accent carried through the small device. “Ambushed by a patrol, Bucky’s been stabbed!!”

Now Steve’s heart stopped and he couldn’t breathe at all.

XX

Falsworth, Gabe, and Bucky ran in a line, hiding their numbers. They were hiding in the trees on top of the cliffs overlooking the village. The group had to duck from a couple of patrols along the way. There would be no escape from below with the rock wall, but the sound of drilling drew the soldiers closer.

Looking below, two gargantuan machines were pounding into the rock. Men filtered in around them, moving chucks and choking on dust.

“They are either looking for something or making a back door,” Gabe said softly.

“But we cannot tell which, from here,” Falsworth added.

One of the men, hauling stone collapsed. A black clad figure strode over kicking the down man. The next second, a blue light flashed and the prisoner was gone.

“Jesus,” Bucky whispered, memories floated to the surface. The young man rolled away, his breath coming his shallow gasps.

“Hey, man. It’s okay. We’re not there anymore,” Gabe said, catching on quickly to his comrades’ distress. Gabe Jones was an observant fellow, a trait that has lead him far in life and kept him alive in the war and as a prisoner. He knew that bad things had happened to the young New Yorker. Gabe has watched Bucky fold in on himself when he thinks know ones watching, but any attempt to talk about it was brushed off and the last time it was not so friendly.

Bucky stumbled around, his retort cut short as he spotted the Hydra guard pulled back his knife to stab the black commando from behind. “On your six!”

Bucky charged forward, tackling the enemy to the ground. The sounds of a scuffle reached him as he wrestled with the guard. A shot as Bucky managed to get a grip and snap the masked man neck.

Falsworth paused, looking around. The three man patrol had come from nowhere, but the sound from the drilling seemed to cover the fight as the men still worked on undisturbed. “Sound off,” he ordered.

“I’m fine,” Gabe gasped.

“Me, too. Ahh,” Bucky fell to the ground as pain shoot hot fire up his leg. He looked down to see the Hydra knife sticking out of his thigh. “Or not,” he grunted.

“Oh, Bollocks.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot going on in this chapter, please let me know if it is confusing

“Ahh, Dum Dum you’re going to break my leg if you push any harder,” Bucky writhed as Dugan pressed his big hands into the wound in his thigh. The Commandos had all met up and the rendezvous point with Dugan’s group having made it first as they had already been on the way back.

“Looks like Stark needs to make us armored long johns,” Dugan joked, though his tone was light his face was solemn. The wound was not dire, having missed the bone and major arteries and could easily have been worse. Bucky even managed to hop himself to the predestinated spot with help from Gabe and Falsworth, though he was pale and exhausted when finally they made it. But it was still bleeding through the blonde’s fingers and was very painful.

“More clothes,” Dernier said, speaking English in a rare moment. The French man handed over a spare rag. “Leaky.”

“Just a bit,” Falsworth said as he paced around the makeshift camp. They were still very close to the perimeter. The Brit stood guard, but he was also keeping an eye out for their Captain, who had yet to return.

Another 30 minutes past, before Steve made it. The bleeding had stopped and the wound bandaged. Bucky leaned quietly against a rock, covered with Gabe’s coat, and didn’t respond when Steve arrived.

“How is he?” Steve asked.

“Doing alright, considering,” Gabe answered, he had acted as their makeshift medic, being the only one with any skill in medicine. “But I’ll be able to stitch it when Morita comes back from the truck.”

“And you guys?”

“The rest of us are fine.” Falsworth answered. “We stalled being discovered with a radio one of the soldiers was carrying. Gabriel has been giving false reports, but it won’t fool them for long.”

Falsworth informed the Captain of what they had seen and how Bucky was hurt. In that time, Morita had returned from a supply run, bringing more bandages and ammunition. Dugan reported the presence of a main road a couple of klicks from their current position, there seemed to be the most traffic. They had also located where the POWs were being kept in a building closest to the main workshop.

“That’s not our only problem,” Steve began. “There are women and children being held in some of the more central buildings. Probably as leverage against the men mining.”

“If we launch an open assault, they will be slaughtered,” Falsworth stated.

“Faire un appel à la radio. Dessinez le soldat hors de la ville et de la rue.” Dernier said quickly. _Make a call on the radio. Draw the soldiers out of the city and off the streets_.

Steve paused for a moment, weighing the possibilities. “We can’t wait much longer or our cover will be blown. Radio Colonel Phillips. It will take him at least a day to get here, but we’ll need them when they do. Gabe and Dernier will free the civilians and sent them in this direction into the woods. Falsworth and Dugan free prisoners, get to the storerooms arms, we’ll need the man power. Morita and I will head to the offices get our hands on whatever we can.”

It was much easier said than done, each pair will have to get into position without being discovered.

“What about me?” Bucky ground out, sitting up and brushing aside Gabe’s restraining hands.

“No, Buck. You’ll only make your leg worse.” Steve responded, despite his old friend shaking his dark, sweaty head the entire time.

“I’m fine. It’s not that bad.”

“You won’t be able to do much with your leg,” Steve insisted.

“Maybe not,” Morita interrupted. “But maybe you can do something with this,” pulling out a Springfield sniper rifle.

XXX

The prison and the workshop were close together. Steve, Morita, Falsworth, and Dugan all slunk through the shadows together until they had to separate for their own tasks.

In the next couple hours following Steve’s return to the Commandos, Gabe had made a report over the bulky Hydra radio, saying that a large Allied force was less than 2 miles from their location. The trick had worked and soldiers were mobilizing to that direction, west of the town. Although Hydra thought it was relying on “their” scouts’ information. It would not take long for them to realize the lie. Hopefully it would be enough to time to get the Allied prisoners weapons and the townsfolk out of the way.

Steve and Morita dashed quickly alongside the brick wall of the workshop. After the report had gone through, any prisoners working the nightshift had been returned to their cells and only a handful of guards were left to watch over them and the factory. Every spare hand was sent to protect the plant from ghosts.

Steve stopped at the corner, raising his hand for Morita to halt as well. Peering around, the Captain saw two guards stationed in the alleyway. He whipped his shield like a Frisbee, taking out the guard closest to them. As it flew, he charged forward tackling the second sentry into the wall. Both crumpled before they had a chance to blink

Before Steve could straighten a gun pressed into the back of his helmet. “Halt oder sterben.” _Halt or die._ The third, patrolling guard did not get to make a second move as he was kicked in the knee. The man’s cry of pain was cut short as a sharp jab to the throat crushed his windpipe. Morita’s final kick sent the man into the ground.

“You can’t get all of them,” the short man said, brusquely. Steve just laughed and waved him along.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Steve whispered curiously.

“My dad was a mean drunk. It was either learning to block a hit or not be able to see for a week.” Morita answered without preamble.

Steve looked to his man, trying to keep the pity from his face. “I’m sorry.” Though it did explain a lot of Morita’s personality. The short, Nisei soldier was the least personable of them all. He rarely told stories of his family or life before the war. Of the short time Steve had known him, Morita had smile probably once or twice. His tone was typically flat and his opinion blunt. However, he was a skilled hand to hand fighter and was talented with manipulating the radios. Steve had heard through the grapevine of some infantrymen whispering doubts and harassments about his men, including Pearl Harbor. It had ended by the time Steve heard about it, though he didn’t know how. Morita barely blinked at the words and never rose to the bait.

“Don’t be. My old man also taught me not to dwell in the past. It only distracts from the present. No matter what he did, it couldn’t stop me.”

They ran in silence for a few more yards, before Morita spoke again, “he doesn’t trust us you know.”

Steve looked to him with a furrowed brow, “Who?”

“Bucky.”

“What do you mean? Of course he trusts us.”

“No. He trusts you, not us.” Morita clarified. The short man stared directly into his Captain’s confused look. A private would have never spoken to a captain in such a way, but speaking to Steve is what made the Commandos unique. “Well, someone had to say it.” Morita was beyond frank and he never really cared about how it made him seem to others.

Steve so desperately wanted to talk about Morita’s meaning, but loud clanging carries down the street. There wasn’t the time and they had reached their destination.

“I noticed this my first time around. The door is reinforced on the inside, but the panel above it should lead to a vent on the inside.”

Morita just stared at his captain, “Is this why you wanted me? Because I’m the smallest?”

“No you are Howling Commando and. . . um” At Morita’s glare, Steve decided to just admit it, “Fine, because you’re the smallest. But I used to be able fit in that.”

“Hey, you ditched that band wagon. You no longer get to sympathize.”

“Just, come on. I’ll give you a boost.” Steve said as he folded his hands into a step, easily lifting the man above his head, holding him there as he crawled into the vent. Steve waited in silence by the door, watching if anymore guards circled back this way. His enhanced hearing allowed him to hear voices in the distance, but couple of English words floating over made him realize that Falsworth and Dugan were along the way to success. There wasn’t much time left before their lie was discovered.

Suddenly the door popped open, Morita peering back out. “Come on, there’s a door this way.” Together they ran to a lower door that lead what appeared to be a lab. Steve was able to kick this door open, two scientists on the other side jumped in surprise.

“Legen sie ihre hände” Steve ordered in German. The lessons from Gabe were going astonishingly well. _Put your hands up._

The captives obeyed, but not quietly. “Hail Hydra,” one said, as both crunched their teeth. They fell to the floor in seconds, choking on their saliva.

“No, god dammit.” Morita checked the men’s pulses. “What is with these guys?” The man who had not spoken could only have been in his early twenties. What could Hydra offer that would drive a man in the prime of his life to suicide over capture.

Gunfire blasts muffled through the walls. Steve turned to the table his mind reeling over the numbers and schematics of countless papers. He started folding them up, stuffing the sheets unceremoniously into a bag.

“Too late now, grab what you can and lets help the others.”

**XX**

Falsworth and Dugan forked away from the Captain and Morita. For once, Dugan was quiet as he stalked the Englishman’s heels. In the distance, many feet pounded on cobblestone streets as Hydra guards scrabbled to build an attack force.

The prisoners of war and men from the town were held close to the factory in an old stone barn had been converted to a prison. With the alert, only two guards were left patrol the door. After all the prisoners were locked up, what could they possibly do?

The bored guards snapped to attention at the sound of a catcall whistle. Cautiously, one investigated around the corner. As soon as he disappeared, a short scuffle sounded. The second guard barely took another step when he was cracked in the head with a rifle butt.

“Well, step one is complete,” Falsworth whispered.

“Now for the shit fest,” Dugan responded. Together they unlocked the heavy steel doors and pushed open slowly. The commandos were not sure, but assumed that there would be more guards on the inside. Which they rightly guessed, two more guards walked the two storied cells. The original stalls of the barn had been converted to cells and more were built into the hayloft. Each cube was packed with soldiers and townsmen and all had exhaustion written in their faces.

A few of the prisoners in the cells closest to the doors, noticed the newcomers immediately and were instantly at the bars.

Falsworth put a finger to his lips, asking for silence, never taking his eyes off the guards. He gestured for the large American to stay close, but Dugan was up the stairs in a shot. “Excuse me, Fritz.” The guard snapped his gun toward the intruder, the one on the first level did the same. The blue glow of the Hydra weapons hummed to life. The blond mustache curled in a smile, “I now have a stick of my own.”

The guard on the ground dropped with Falsworth‘s knife in his neck. Dugan shot the one in front of him, before the other could react. Between the two of them, the cages were opened and the men were freed in a matter of moments. The soldiers were organized, ready to take orders and almost 150 would fight to say free. The townsmen were sent to the back road and were told that their wives and children were going to be on their way. Those that didn’t stay to fight were to take any injured with them.

“I’ll clear the path to the guns, stay and wait for the opening or is that too much to ask?” Falsworth hissed to his boisterous companion, before slipping away into the dark.

Dugan had the sense to a least look a little sheepish at his unruliness. Dugan always found it difficult to take orders, preferring to make his own choices. As a Howling Commando, he had the liberty as a specialized soldier, but even then he was still taking orders. The blond just couldn’t help himself and working in tandem with Falsworth didn’t help. He did not have anything against the Englishman, who proved himself quite capable during their imprisonment, but the man seemed to have a perpetual stick up his lordly behind at times that made Dugan twitch.

He was definitely going to hear about this later.

Commanders from the captured units took charged of their men, once they were armed the soldiers would need to square up quickly to meet Hydra guards. The highest ranked officer was Warrant Officer named Johnson of the 101st. The short, black haired man in his 30s was used to giving orders and readily instilled himself as leader. His high and mighty attitude quickly wormed his way under Dugan’s thick skin. Power obvious went to this man’s head. Luckily for Dugan, Rogers had yet to show off any power surges. It did not seemed to be part of the Captain’s nature.

“We need to get weapons,” Johnson said.

“Once Falsworth clears the way, we’ll get armed. Then you make sure your men are ready.” Dugan replied curtly, peeking out the door for his British companion.

“There isn’t the time, _Corporal_. We have to move now.” Johnson couldn’t understand what the wait was for or why the under ranking soldier so completely dismissed his authority.

“I know my rank,” Dugan said, tapping his hat as if the man probably had not noticed. The corporal signal stitched to the front. “But I’m also a Howling Commando,” reveling the winged patch on his shoulder. “Captain America has a plan, but you need to listen to me,” he ground out, hoping Falsworth was on his way back, he was running out of his limited patience.

The look on Johnson’s face showed he clearly wasn’t pleased with the answer, but he didn’t challenge the name Captain America and Dugan thanked his lucky stars. A few tense moments later, a lithe form quietly snuck up to the barn.

“Alright, the weapons were where Captain pointed them out. None are Hydra weapons. Follow me.” Falsworth ordered. Johnson led his men forward without argument a stolen pistol in his hand. Once the soldiers filed out, Dugan escorted the townsfolk a few street down, pointing them to the woods. He could only hope they would make it without running into Hydra, but the big man was needed in the front. The civilians had a guardian angel watching their backs.

Dugan was knocked to his knees as a massive explosion rocked the town. Cursing profusely, the man tipped his bowler hat back to see a wave of smoke plum upwards.

XX

Gabe and Dernier darted between the streets toward the square. Steve had told them where he first saw the women were is in a pink building on the East side. Unfortunately, the Captain was not able to investigate further after the distress call.

Dernier was just about step out when a large number of guards marched into the square. Gabe grabbed the shorter man by the collar pulling back into the shadows. The both froze in place waiting for an alert yell to sound, but none came. This wouldn’t work, Hydra was gathering in the square. Building units and deploying rapidly, there was a constant flow of black clad men in the square.

“We’ll have to find another away,” Gabe whispered in French. There was no need for English between the two of them. The slunk through the shadows, hiding behind barrels and boxes only able to go a few feet at a time before more soldiers marched by every few minutes. It was an agonizingly long time to get to the pink building. Gabe cracked a window open, unlocking it from the inside.

The room the soldiers slipped into appeared to be the backroom of a tailors shop. Lengths of clothes and scraps of threads covered the tables. Gabe walked forward cautiously, light change in the room. The black soldier’s gun snapped up at the figure reveled in the glare. An old wood manikin stood in the corner.

Dernier patted him on the shoulder, the adrenaline was pumping through both of them. The shorter of the two peeked through the swinging door. At the all clear, the men crept up the stairs. It was quiet, setting them both on edge as they had yet to run into Hydra. The upper floors seemed to be living quarters, two doors in was the first locked one. Two hits with Gabe’s shoulder popped the old lock out.

The women inside shrank back. “It’s alright. We’re here to help you,” Dernier interjected. Gabe hung back watching the hallway. Precious moments passed as Dernier tried to convince the captives of their intent. The village was remote and had not heard the name Captain America. And then Gabe made a mistake. He turned his back, looking into the room and only just caught a glimpse of black out of the corner of his eye. Two shots cracked and both fell. The Hydra guard had a bullet in his head. Gabe lucked out with deep graze.

“We have to move now,” He said, tying off the cut. Hydra would have heard the shot and would be looking for the source.

“The tunnels,” A blonde teenager said suddenly. She leaped to her feet saying the town had catacombs beneath it, part of caves that were naturally formed.

“I really wish we knew about that earlier,” Gabe muttered. Booted feet were getting louder and louder.

“Get the women out. I’ll take care of them.” Dernier said, running off before Gabe could argue. The Commandos really needed to work on this teamwork thing.

The women were quite helpful once they had decided to trust the strangers. An older women acted as a nurse. She had been around the captives, helping take care of injures or sick. Bernice was a small woman with wrinkles around her eyes and graying hair, but steady fast. She told Gabe that the women were all held in the surrounding buildings, crammed into the living quarters above the stores as she bandaged his arm more securely.

The American led the way, passing two dead Hydra men along the way. He tried to wave the women to silence, but he couldn’t blame them from being frightened. They have had a hell of a time already.

The caves acted as sewers to the town, one of the entrances opened two buildings down. Guns and shouting carried from the opposite directions. Smoke began to darken the dawn sky. Gabe went first making sure the way was clear and heaved the cover open. Bernice guided the women and children into the hole. The tunnel would take allow the fugitives to get the edge of town, but they would have to exit to get to the woods.

In the next few minutes, the brave teen from earlier, Genevieve, followed Gabe to the surrounding buildings. The commando would clear the way and the girl encouraged the captives to escape. After everyone else had entered the tunnel, Gabe helped the blonde down into the dark, broken only by a couple of lanterns. Genevieve almost dropped a couple pistols from her pocket during her descent.

“What are you doing?” Gabe questioned. He had not seen the girl pick up the weapons as they cleared the buildings.

“What? You think just cause we’re girls, that we don’t know how to use a gun?” The girl asked innocently, she had a gleam in her eye and fire in her blood. Her home had been taken and family wounded. This girl, not much more than a child, was never going back to being a prisoner. Gabe just had to make sure that happened.

He closed the cover after himself. In the dark, dozens of eyes stared at him and it was nothing like giving a speech in school. These eyes were desperate and broken, lives depended on him.

“Follow me.”

XX

Dernier flew down the hallway, he kicked an oncoming Hydra guard down the stairs. The short Commando burst through the front door and stormed through the square. These foxes needed a rabbit to chase and Dernier was pretty fast.

Guns and shouts blasted in his wake, he takes a sharp corner and dust float as bullets collided with the brick walls. But this wasn’t a wild run, there was goal in mind.

Dernier jumped a crate, tripping over a screaming cat. Dodging between the narrow, cobbled streets suddenly opened to impossible large machines and mountains of rubble.

The mines

And explosives. Dynamite was housed in a separate building, typically away from living quarters or the mouth of the mine. Dernier burst into a couple of sheds until he found a small stone cottage with a blocky lock on the front. But it was more for show he guess as it popped opened after a couple of swings for a shovel.

Dernier froze in the threshold, the small building was completely packed with explosive, more than he could ever had imagined. Shouting was getting louder and there was no time to waste. As fast as he dared, the explosive expert loaded boxes of hazardous material into a mining cart and wired a running fuse.

He could see men on the cliffs where Falsworth, Gabe, and Bucky hide only hours before, the trick was done and Hydra was swarming in waves. But Dernier was better at his job, he lite his split fuse. One in the mine and to the main store. Jacques Dernier ran faster than he ever had before, bullets flew around him and his hat was blown from his head.

He made it to the houses when a familiar red beret was coming toward him. Falsworth. “Go back, Away,” he screamed, not realizing his was still speaking French. But it didn’t matter, with some chaotic backpedaling the Allied soldiers were now in an all-out retreat. Going as far as they could before time ran out.

Then time ran out.

XX

Bucky lay on his stomach, sniper rifle tucked into his shoulder. He was a decent shot, having one of the highest scores in basic. However, he had never used this caliber rifle before, but it was better than sitting on his hands.

He wound was not bothering him as much as he knew it should. But there were little about him that was as it should be anymore, he chalked it up to the position he was laying in.

Bucky did not remember a lot of what happened in Azzano, the pain, the lights, and voices were fleeting. The only thing he could think of to keep himself grounded during the ordeal was his ranking order and number, repeating over and over and over. He said it for hours, maybe days, until one voice broke the mantra.

Steve. The little guy from Brooklyn, who wasn’t so little anymore. His best friend that wasn’t supposed to be on the continent saved his sorry ass and more. It was still hard to process, whenever someone mentioned Steve. The skinny kid with a cough popped into his head before this broad super soldier.

Movement along the far left wall, brought Bucky’s eye to the scope. Many forms started floating in his direction. Although the light was poor, the people were easily not Hydra. He knew a woman’s figure when he saw it.

But guard leaning over the roof was not. Bucky exhaled, slowly pulling the trigger until it cracked and the man fell to the ground. The women on the ground jumped and screamed, but were quickly headed to him.

As the light grew, Bucky could see his fellow commando leading the way. The Howling Commandos. The guys were good people, soldiers and survivors. But in his heart, Bucky could not trust them. Maybe it was paranoia, but he was always on edge now. He ate little, slept less, but was still able to function without a problem.

Hydra Guard appeared, guns raised and singing. Gabe and Bucky shot and killed them, but some of the refugees went down as well.

“Shit,” He whispered, now wasn’t the time to deal with his problems.

Men poured from the right and he almost pooled the trigger if it wasn’t for the happy reunion of families and lovers. God, he almost shot someone he was trying to help. Soon enough, villagers were filing past him, most did not even see him as they walked into the woods. Gabe came up to him without needing to search.

Gabriel Jones was probably the easiest of the Commandos to get along with, not judgmental and always patient.

“You alright?” Bucky asked, not moving from his shooting position.

“Yeah, but I need to help Frenchie.”

“What happened?”

“We got separated, but,” The explanation was cut off with a massive explosion and the cliff where Bucky had been stabbed crumpled in the flames.

“Son of a bitch.”

**XX**

Smoke was everywhere, blinding and burning. Flames leaped toward the dawn and the screams of dying men followed.

Steve had lowered his goggles over his eyes in an attempt to keep debris out of his way. He and Morita ran out of the factory to chaos. Captain America rallied the freed POWs he crossed. Gathering courage and strength from the all American hero, the soldiers regrouped and prepared to followed orders. Through Morita was not sure the morale would last, as their faces were strained and eyes overly wide.

“Get it together, girls. There’s still a fight coming yet.” A brazen voice, carried over the commotion.

“Dugan!” Steve shouted, waving his man to his side.

“Cap, the cliffs blew sky high and I haven’t seen the others.”

“Get the men together, ready them to sweep left. We need to put a wall between Hydra and the civilians.”

The last of the men stumbled from the blast zone. They were covered with dirt and ash, coughing harshly from the grit in the air. Two figures, leaning on each other, hobbled up to the costumed commander. They were not recognizable until a few feet away, Falsworth and Dernier pulled up straighter when they made it.

“Captain,” Falsworth choked. The Brit was wearing the dust like a second skin, it smeared with the sweat on his face. Dernier looked just as dirty, he shook his head as if trying to clear it.

“You two, ok?” Mortia asked.

“Pardon?” Falsworth leaned in, turning his head trying to catch the question again.

“Dernier, did you do this?” Steve asked.

“Parlez plus fort. J'ai fait sauter les mines.” _Speak louder. I blew up the mines._ The mines were still cracking and falling. Dernier’s explosion had destroyed the cliff’s infrastructure.

“Hydra was all over those hills. Their forces are weaker now. Move out!” Captain America shouted. The soldiers threw into the charge. The army sweep through the town, pooling into the square and decimating the Hydra men still there. Gabe and Bucky met them on the way. Despite his injury, Bucky kept up with the charge as if he was not wounded at all, ready to cover Steve’s back again. Only to be set to the side again.

“Captain, I wish to fight with you,” Bucky requested, using his friend’s formal rank amongst strange soldiers. “Steve,” he pleaded.

“Buck, you’re still hurt. I can’t protect you in this. Once we clear the town, find a nest.” He moved on before Bucky could argue. Falsworth and Dernier still recovering from the blast flanked either side of the regiment. Dugan and Gabe followed Steve.

In the lead, Captain America charged into the forest. Dugan’s long stride paced his leader, pump action shotgun in constant motion. Gabe’s machine gun may have been the more effective weapon, but Dugan would always favor the shotgun.

The fighting lasted into the morning. Many of Hydra’s forces were killed in the eruption and survivors were still reeling when the Allied army struck, but they held their own. The freed prisoners fought with all the little strength they had left, and victory was hard won.

Late afternoon, SSR reinforcements found the smoking rubble the town under the thinly stretch control of Captain America and the remaining soldiers. Over 100 of the prisoners were killed in the fight. A handful of men, two of which were young townsmen, were still able to move and help the Commandos in securing the area. The villagers that had escaped were still in the woods, reunited families held their loves ones and mourned their dead. Bernice had returned to assist with the wounded, ordering her assistants with iron assuredly

“Well, Captain. I’m not sure you know what ‘reconnaissance’ means,” the surly Colonel Phillips shouted.

“Sorry Sir, but time was of the essence.” Steve replied respectfully. “We did manage to retrieve a number of documents from the lab. Perhaps Howard will be able to understand them.”

“Let’s hope, he’s useful. Give me the full report.”

When Steve was finally dismissed, he went to find his men and he didn’t have to look far. The Howling Commandos all sat together among the heaps of broken rocks. The specialty team looked like a bunch of dirty children. Their clothes were covered with mud and sweat, Falsworth was almost frantic in trying to beat the dust from his jacket as the others teased him. The Brit’s face was streaked as if he had tried to wipe the grime off.

Steve hung back for a moment watching his men. Bucky sat off to the side, pretending to listen, but Steve knew him well enough to tell when his friend was being insincere. Morita’s words floated in his mind and he could now see Gabe watching the dark haired man as well. Steve would need to have a talk with his friend as a friend. When Steve approach, his posture was straight and shield strapped to his back.

“What’s the word, Cap?” Dugan asked, taking a swig from his flask. The big man had his foot propped up on Gabe’s shoulder. It wasn’t hurting him, Dugan was just trying to annoy his friend, but Gabe was too tried to care.

“We are headed back to base with our salvage. There we have two days before our next target.” Steve surveyed the Commandos. “Injuries?” He questioned, looking sideways at Bucky.

“It’s been taken care of,” Bucky reluctantly answered. “It’ll be fine, by the time we get to England,” He continued, not looking at Steve.

“Just bumps and scraps for the rest of us, Captain.” Falsworth added.

“Then let’s move out,” Steve ordered. Quietly, for once, the Howling Commandos stood and started heading out of the small village. One that they didn’t even know the name of. As they walked through the square, the civilians that were gathered all stopped what they were doing and stared. For a moment, Morita expected a bad reaction until the area burst into cheering and clapping. The Assault squad was engulfed with people, men clapping them on the back, children gapping with wide eyed expressions, and one woman snagged Falsworth by his ascot and kissed him full on the mouth. The team’s movement was all but halted and it took several minutes to be cleared through the ecstatic people.

When they finally made it back to the Colonel Phillips, the Commandos were dragging their feet behind the sure footed Captain America. The men had been running hard for over almost 48 hours, and soon they had a ride back to the closest base. From there, they would fly to England.

Once settled and on the move, Steve leaned back and unbuckled his uniform. He had been wearing it for a long time and now that he was sitting still the heavy material was constricting. Soldiers had been directed to where the Commandos had left their vehicle, so his army jacket should eventually get back to him. Gabe had the foresight to grab K rations and canteens as they loaded up. Everyone dug in, cramming the virtually tasteless, prepackaged food as if it was a gourmet dinner. Morita and Dugan ate with zero consideration, opting to collectively shove as much in as they could at once. Falsworth attempted to eat with some refinement, but it was difficult in the back of a moving vehicle.

“Keep your grimy hands to yourself, Dugan,” Falsworth barked, barely managing to keep his biscuit as his comrade had tried to lift it right from the package.

Unperturbed, the big man just shrugged a shoulder, “you’re too slow,” he said as if it was obvious.

“Barbarian,” Falsworth huffed.

Wordlessly, Steve passed his ration’s chocolate bar to Bucky. His best friend had been avoiding his eye, but only hesitated a few seconds before taking the candy.

Gabe shook his head, “I still can’t believe that you don’t like chocolate.”

Steve just shrugged, “It’s too sweet.” He had never liked chocolate or very many sweets at all. His family had never been able to afford sugar for more than minimal cooking. His father used to tell him that most people put in in their coffee, but there had never been enough to spare for the Rogers’ family. Steve’s first experience with sweets was when he was 15 and Bucky had given him a peppermint candy. The treat was so strong it had turned his stomach and he had thrown up. Similar experience with chocolates had taught Steve that he should avoid sugary foods. He still didn’t eat any after the serum. Though it would not make him sick, just the memory was enough of a deterrent that made sweets unappealing.

Dernier patted his pockets, digging through them a couple of times with dust floating to the truck bed as a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Qui a une lumière? Je perdu le mien..” _Who has a light? I lost mine._ Bucky lit the French man’s smoke as well as his own.

“You never use to smoke, Buck.” Steve said offhandedly.

“Things change,” Bucky grumbled, taking a long drag.

“Smoking good for the nerves, Rogers,” Dugan declared loudly as he slapped Bucky hard on the shoulder. “You should try a cigar, Jimmy.”

Bucky cringed under the nickname even as Morita and Falsworth both instinctively responded to it. “Just Bucky or Barnes if you want, Dugan or not at all,” The New Yorker said sharply. Bucky wasn’t overly annoyed even with his tone. He was tired and sore, and had a tendency of being grumpy when he was sleepy.

“Whatever,” Dugan said, punctuating with a belch.


	4. Chapter 4

“Welcome back, Gentlemen,” Agent Carter’s silky voice greeted Captain America and the Howling Commandos as they returned to the SSR base beneath London. She was collected as ever, her hair in neat curls and red lipstick on. Steve had to look away, pretending to wipe dirt off his nose before she noticed. The men were straight from their mission, half-hearted attempts to get cleaned up were obvious. They wouldn’t get a chance to truly relax until the full debrief happened, even after the long hours of travel to get back to base.

“The Colonel sent a message that you had papers for me,” Howard Stark added as everyone sat at the meeting table. The man was sharply dressed as usual, wearing an expensive suit with razor creases. Sitting among the dirty soldiers made Stark look like a king amongst paupers. When Steve handed over the bags with files, the engineer immediately dug in, ignoring everyone else as he poured over the scribbles and numbers. He only stopped when a small vial rolled from Morita’s bag and bounced off his hand.

“I don’t even remember grabbing that,” Morita said as Stark lifted the vial into the light. Inside the tiny tube were minuscule splinters, they were impossibly small fragments that reflected in the lamp light.

“I will have to do some tests to identify it and I will need time to look over these formulas as well.” Howard stated, shifting the papers around into some sort of order.

Peggy rose from her seat, with everyone else rising in turn with proper etiquette. “In that case, I believe we may be able to postpone the briefing,” she said, silently taking pity on the soldier’s drawn faces. “Until Mr. Stark has analyzed the retrieved forms and when Colonel Phillips returns. He should be not far behind you. Until 0900 tomorrow, Gentlemen,” With that, she spun on her heel and left the men silently in her wake.

One never knew how good a hot shower felt until there wasn’t one. The Commandos broke with some sibilance of patience as they walked toward the dorms. The underground facility had some place to lie down as a breakroom, but there was not true living areas. So Captain America led the way to a private elevator that connected the base to a commandeered hotel above it. Steve completely removed his uniform jacket, folding it inside out and leaving him in a dark undershirt. He tried to be at least a little subtle.

Dugan broke the silence, “who wants to hit _The Old Haunt,_ after we get cleaned up?”

“Nope, sleep,” Morita answered. The short man leaned against the elevator wall with his eyes closed.

“Un verre dans le salon est un produit comme un dans la taverne.” Dernier said. _A drink in the room is a good as one in the tavern._ The Frenchman was still having trouble with his balance after being so close to the blast. He did not think he would be able to make it to a tavern without being arrested for stumbling like a drunkard.

“Fine, we’ll drink in, you geezers,” Dugan relented, obviously disappointed. It was an ironic insult as he was the oldest Commando at 34. Dernier was not far behind him at 32, but the rest of the fighters were at least 5 years his juniors. Steve was, in fact, the youngest at the innocent age of 23.

In no time, the Assault team had showered and dressed in clean clothes. They sat in the sitting area of their private small suite. Steve had been offered his own room, but declined, preferring to room with Bucky and his team.

“Monty! Hurry up or Dugan will drink everything,” Gabe called out.

When he did appear, Falsworth was his typical prime self. The Englishman was properly groomed and could rival Stark in finesse of his appearance. “Let him,” he mused. “I have not had a proper cup of tea in too long,” as he set the room’s teapot up to heat. Dugan faked gagged and blew his lips at the statement, much to the amusement of the others.

In less than an hour, the men were filtering back to their rooms. It was late and exhaustion was catching up fast. Until Steve and Bucky were alone, sitting in silence. Bucky had not spoken much all night, brushing off the other’s attempts to engage him. Without a word, he stood and headed to the room he shared only with Steve.

“Buck, can we talk?” Steve asked quietly. He held his breath, not knowing how his friend would react. But this couldn’t wait any longer, he’s spent too much time on eggshells.

“I don’t really feel like talking now,” Bucky said softly, facing the other way. His voice was rough, either from fatigue or lack of use, Steve wasn’t sure.

It was suddenly stifling in the room and the tension was building, “let’s go outside,” Steve suggested. He wasn’t sure if Bucky would follow, but after a moment he did. Outside the air was cool and at this time of night they had the back garden of the hotel to themselves. Steve hesitated, he hasn’t felt this uncomfortable talking to Bucky since when they first meet, many years ago. “You have always told me everything, please.”

After a moment, Bucky finally said, “I can’t protect you.”

“What?”

“In the village, that’s what you said. _I can’t protect you_ ”

“You were hurt, Buck. Running into battle wasn’t going to help. You had our backs with the Springfield.”

“That’s not the point.” And suddenly the floodgates opened, “When did so much change? I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m lost.” Bucky looked up, with a pleading stare. “I – I don’t know what to do if I can’t even watch my best friend’s back anymore.”

Steve was silent. He knew the serum changed his life, but he never thought about how it would affect others in his life. Bucky was never one to share his feelings. The more one pushed the tighter he would clam up, becoming more obstinate until he stormed off. But it always worked to wait him out when it came to sharing his opinions.

Bucky took a deep steadying breath, his eyes were red and he choked out, “I haven’t been sleeping well.” He said quietly.

“I know you haven’t, Buck. What happened at the Hydra base isn’t something-” Steve started.

Bucky gave a harsh laugh, looking at Steve with a fevered glint in his eye that the Captain had never seen in his friend’s face before. It broke his heart that he had let this go on for so long. “I haven’t had a good nights sleep since I shipped out.” Bucky said. “This hell that they sent us to breaks men. The endless pain, blood, and death. Men starving and dying in mudholes in the ground, crying for their mothers. But what keeps me up at night is not the men I’ve killed. It’s how easy it is and I’m good at it.” Bucky was shouting now, tears running down his face, but he was also laughing. A broken, harsh noise that was so out of place on a man, who a year ago could charm any dame he passed with an easy smile.

“Buck,” Steve started, but Bucky cut him off.

“Before leaving, I wondered what to do with my life. You know I suck at carpentry. I know I would go crazy in a factory. I’m pretty decent with cars, but you know the thing I’m great at,” He asked with a deranged smile, sniffing strongly. “Being a murderer,” He said, matter-a-factly.

“You think you’re the only one?” the question came out of nowhere, both the men looked to the door to see Morita standing on the steps. “You think no one else has though the same thing?” The rest of the Commandos stood in the doorway behind him. Bucky immediately turned his back, desperately trying to wipe his face, burning with humiliation at the breakdown.

“It’s okay, man,” Gabe said. “It would be a problem if you felt fine after all of this.”

“We have to fight to protect those that cannot,” Falsworth added. “Hydra seeks to destroy everything.”

Dugan spoke with a gentle tone, “I have a daughter.” He chuckled at the surprised faces at his admission, “Her name is Annie and I will fight to Heaven or Hell to keep her safe.”

“We must obligate,” Dernier said in English.

“Obligate?” Bucky questioned.

Dernier clarified in French, unsure of the word he was looking for.

“Sacrifice,” Steve translated, he rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Glad that it wasn’t pushed away. “But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m with you to the end.”

Slowly, Bucky nodded and eventually everyone went back inside. Before the doors closed for sleep, “Thanks, guys.” Bucky said to the Commandos. “Next round is on me.”

“I will hold you up to that, Barnes,” Dugan called back, followed by the other listing drink orders.

In bed, Steve starred at the ceiling, trying to restrain him from looking at his friend’s form across the dark room. He was glad that Bucky was in a better place, with himself and with the Commandos. He knew that his friend wasn’t great, but it was a start.

“Goodnight, Buck”

Bucky didn’t answer, he was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts are welcomed


End file.
